


Taking a Chance

by HeartsFate



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-30
Updated: 2012-12-30
Packaged: 2017-11-22 22:52:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/615267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeartsFate/pseuds/HeartsFate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jackson may just get the chance he needs when a storm hits Beacon Hills.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Taking a Chance

**Author's Note:**

  * For [martianspyder](https://archiveofourown.org/users/martianspyder/gifts).



> While not my first time posting something, this is my first time posting here. So if something is not right, I am so sorry.

Jackson watches with a scowl as Isaac is tossed against the tree once again. He kind of feels sorry for the kid. Derek has always been a little extra rough on him when it came to training, but then Isaac stands up and Jackson loses all feelings of sympathy. If the kid wants to die early let him. Sergeant Hale’s boot camp will be the death of them all one day. He would bet his bank account on it. 

He can only shrug as Isaac stupidly stands up again and advances on Derek. There is only so much of seeing the same person get their ass kicked before it becomes too much. He turns away, flinching ever so slightly when he hears Isaac’s body make contact with the tree again. The poor tree’s going to have a questionable human sized dent in it if they keep it up. 

The sky is darkening and the wind is picking up. It’s a clear sign that the impending storm everyone has been making such a huge fuss about is now closing in. It’s been affecting them all differently all week. Lydia and Erica were the most sensitive, mood swings like it’s their time of the month all over again. Isaac’s been mopey. With the storm coming, he won’t be able to go out and run like he usually does. Jackson’s sure that’s one of the reasons for his masochistic behavior during training. Boyd and Scott seem happy about it. Jackson has to rolls his eyes, he knows it’s just because this is an excuse for them to spend alone time with their girls. He’s indifferent to the storm. He’s going to be trapped in his house by himself until it passes. Derek’s just been pushing them hard, acting like it’s going to be their last training session ever. They all have wounds still healing from earlier in the week. Derek finally lets up midweek, when Peter makes a point to remind him that they’d be no use to him dead.

The wind blows pass once again, harder than before, and out of habit he finds himself wrapping his arms around himself. It’s a pussy move since he doesn’t feel the cold. At least not anymore. Stiles catches the move and raises a brow, the corner of his mouth lifted upward as though he’s getting ready to laugh. Jackson just growls to threaten him but the other boy’s unfazed.

“Whittemore!” Derek’s yell draws Jackson’s mind away from the image of tearing Stiles limb from limb. 

Jackson rolls his eyes, arms still crossed over his chest as he met the eyes of his Alpha, “What?”

Derek growls, causing the teen to fight back the urge to shiver especially with everyone watching. He wouldn’t embarrass himself like that. “If you have time to daydream, you have time to train. It’s your turn. Let’s go.”

There’s a few snickers from the peanut gallery but Jackson straightens himself to his full height. Isaac gives his shoulder a squeeze as he passes. Standing a few feet away from the imposing man in black, though he knows it really won’t save him.

“Listen, Derek, I really think we should hold off on this,” the older man growls and that submissive feeling returns. Jackson scowls, burying it deep, deep within him. “Look, this storm is suppose to be really bad. It looks like the skies going to open up any minute now.”

Erica snickers from behind, “You’re just trying to get out of training, Jackson.”

He chooses to ignore her. It seems for once someone takes his side. The sky opens up seconds after Erica makes her comment. The girls shriek in distaste (he forces back a smile as Lydia curses and screams ‘My hair!’) and cell phones start to ring. Parents are calling and demanding they all to return home. Jackson reaches into his pocket, clenching his phone tightly knowing neither of his parents will be making a call to check up on him. 

Derek exhales sharply through his nose, sounding like a frustrated bull. “Just...Just go home. All of you,” he snaps, stuffing his hands into his wet leather jacket, “We’ll continue another day.”

The pack share a look but choose to not press the issue further. Another gust of strong wind has everyone moving to cars. Boyd’s helping Erica off the hood of his car, the blonde hurrying inside as he gets in the passenger seat. Scott and Isaac make their way to Stiles jeep, waiting for Stiles whose glancing back at Lydia in question. 

“Jackson!” Lydia yells, the girl demanding his attention, but he’s focused on Derek, who is bounding up the stairs and into the Hale house. 

“I-ah-I need to take care of something. Can Stiles give you a ride back home?” He doesn’t really wait for her response as he’s hurrying after Derek. He doesn’t miss the annoyed huff of air she lets out and knows he’ll have to deal with quite the extensive tantrum when he sees her again.  
He’s at the door when the others are safe in their cars and heading back towards town. 

The door’s just been pushed open when he hears the familiar growl, “I thought I dismissed you, Whittemore?”

“You did but,” Jackson walks in taking in the destroyed house. There’s so much wrong with the place and still Derek chooses to stay here, when there were much better places. The stairs leading up to the second floor are still broken, looking as though they’d snap under the slightest of weight. The roof has various holes, allowing for the rain to seep in. Jackson’s nose scrunches up in disgust. “Get some things. You’re staying with me tonight.”

A scoff comes from somewhere upstairs and the urge to roll his eyes is strong. “I’m serious here. You can’t stay here Derek. I’m not a total heartless bastard. I’m not going to let my Alpha die from something as simple as pneumonia.”

He receives a dry chuckle in response and then he sees him. Derek steps out from one of upstairs rooms, glaring down at the blue-eyed teen. 

“I won’t.”

“I know, I know.” Jackson interrupts, though he knows he shouldn’t, “Fast healing and all that shit. Still, this is no place to stay during a storm. Just suck it up and be happy I’m offering you proper room and food for once.”

Derek’s brow arches a tick, leaning forward with his hands holding the frail railing, “Who are you to demand anything from me, pup?”

Jackson scowls at the nickname, “You know what, forget it. See if I show any kind of concern again. This house can get torn down by the winds and you can get impaled for all I care.” He knows it’s childish but he turns, slamming the door behind him in his haste to get to his porsche. 

The weather outside is much worse than only a few minutes ago, but he doesn’t care. He sits in the Porsche, hands gripping the steering wheel tight enough to turn his knuckles white. He’s annoyed with himself for trying to do something nice. For even considering that Derek might take him seriously and not just think of him as the runt of the litter who everyone just tries to ignore or push away. 

Pushing the key in the ignition, Jackson goes to back out when the passenger door opens and a soaked Derek slides in, tossing a bag into the backseat. He’s not sure how to react as he just stares, confused. 

Derek’s brow arches as he settles into the seat, “I thought we were headed to your place.”

Jackson clears his throat, “Right, my parents aren’t home for the week. So you don’t have to worry about them.”

The older man only makes a noise of acknowledgement, his attention on the beating rain and howling winds outside. A small smile presents itself on Jackson’s face, patting himself, preening over a job well done as he turns and heads back into town.

**\- X -**

He doesn’t know what he was thinking when he offered Derek shelter from the storm. It’s been two hours since they safely made it to the Whittemore residence. Two hours since he basically told Derek to make himself at home and promptly locked himself up in his bedroom. It’s not like the Alpha made any attempt to try and talk to him since they arrived. From what Jackson can tell, Derek’s found the television remote and was currently surfing through the channels for something decent to watch.

The storm is growing worse with raindrops pelting the house as though someone was shooting from a machine gun. Every now and then he’d jump from the sound, another reason he’s happy not being in the presence of his Alpha. 

Jackson closes his eyes, listening to the show Derek finally settled on and the howling wind outside. He just wants to sleep now and hope that the storm doesn’t last as long as they say it will. There’s a filling in the pit of his stomach that tells him, he’s going to do something stupid. He’d rather not go through that, at least not in front of Derek. He shifts into a more comfortable position in hopes of sleep claiming him, but the ringing of his cell phone kills it.

“What?” he answers gruffly, not bothering to check the caller id.

A little growl sounds in his ear and he automatically sits up, “Jackson.”

The tone is enough to make him flinch and try to manage the damage, “Sorry Lydia.” 

“Better,” she states in a much chipper tone. “How are you managing over there? Do you want to come over and spend the night?” 

He tries to not roll his eyes when he hears Stilinski protesting in the background. Lydia hasn’t told him yet, but he’s known they’ve been together for a while now. He doesn’t understand what’s stopping her. They may be exes but she’s still one of his best friends. 

“I think I’ll pass. It sounds like you already have a full house, besides I have company.”

“Oh?” He can see her sitting up all the straighter, eager to get this morsel of gossip from him. 

He shrugs, though he knows she can’t see the action, and stares at his closed door. “Derek’s here. I figured he needed somewhere a bit more sturdy to stay.”

There’s a brief pause before he hears a giggly ‘Awww’ followed by Stiles asking if Jackson finally took the leap. The tips of his ears are turning red, he can feel it, and his face is heating up. What the hell is wrong with people?

“Tell Stilinski to shut up,” Jackson growls, hastily standing from his bed to pace his room.

“Dude,” Stiles laughs, “you kind of make it obvious with your puppy act.” 

Rubbing a hand over his face, Jackson pauses and stares at the door. “I don’t have a puppy act.” There’s a chuckle from downstairs and he’s praying it’s not meant for him.

“Whatever. Just suck it up and kiss him already. You kind of make the rest of us nauseous when all you do is make goo-goo eyes at Derek.” 

“I-I what?!” He stutters, “I do not. I do not make.” He can’t even bring himself to say it. Not when Derek is just downstairs, possibly listening in.” 

“Yeah, you kind of do Jackson,” Lydia is back. “Listen, this is your chance. The two of you are stuck in a house together. Alone. Just go for it and kiss him. What’s the worse he can do? Bite?” She laughs and before he can reply, they are disconnected. 

A sigh escapes his lips and he’s rubbing his face again. “Stupid Lydia. Stupid Stilinski. Sticking their noses where they don’t belong.” he mutters, tossing the cell phone onto his bed. With another deep sigh, Jackson swings open the door. ‘I just need to take a chance. Just one.’

Straightening up, he takes the stairs down two at a time, quickly entering the living room to find Derek. What he finds isn’t what he expects.

Derek is stretched out on the large sofa, in only his dark jeans and white wife beater. His leather jacket is tossed across the coffee table. His right hand rests over the expanse of his stomach and the remote dangles from his left hand, dangerously close to falling onto the plush rug.

It’s a cute sight or as close to cute as Derek Hale can get. A small smile makes its way to Jackson’s lips and he’s grabbing the blanket from the loveseat before he knows what’s come over him. 

“Maybe this is better,” he whispers as he cautiously drapes the blanket over the sleeping Alpha. He’s never seen him look so peaceful. There’d been times when Jackson stayed at the old Hale House or the abandoned train cart with the others. Each and every time Derek barely slept. The slightest sound woke up and he’d have everyone up preparing for a non-existent attack. Now, the man hasn’t moved. “I at least get some more time to think about this. So much needed time to suck it up and just chance it. You can kill me afterward, but you at least have to give me a chance to tell you everything.” He wants to lean forward and press his lips to Derek’s, but he doesn’t. It wouldn’t feel right and he’s already freaking out as is. 

Stepping back, Jackson hurries back upstairs, falling face first onto his bed. He huffs despite himself, wondering when he let all these thoughts claim him. Or when he let what something Stilinski says get to him? He’s confused about everything. About his life, his parents, Derek. Everything is a hot mess and he just might end up making it even worse. 

He’s just tired of being the scaredy cat. Tired of being the one everyone else feels obligated to protect. Jackson knows he needs to man-up. He knows he’s not everyone’s top choice for anything, but he’s going to change that. He’ll show Derek. He’ll show him that he’s worthy of him. And to the pack, he’ll prove he’s just as good, if not better than them all. 

First, he has to prove himself to Derek, maybe even win him over if he happens to rejection him. Jackson sighs, clutching his pillow to his stomach. Rejection isn’t something he’s good with. It’s a fear even worse than death.  
‘I need to stop thinking about this,’ Jackson growls, rolls over and pummels his mattress with a fist. A crash of thunder causes him to jump. The lights flicker once then twice before he’s consumed in darkness. Shit, powers out.’

He’s out of his room and once again entering the living room, making a makeshift bed on the floor between Derek and the coffee table. Sleep takes him an hour later after he’s tormented himself some more with his thoughts. When he wakes the next morning and finds his fingers laced in Derek’s left hand, he tries not to be surprised. He just closes his eyes with a smile, giving the hand a gentle squeeze.


End file.
